The Watchmaker's Treasure
by haussmann
Summary: Dipper and Mabel sneak into the shuttered house of an eccentric, long-dead clockmaker in search of a rumored, mysterious treasure. Same as my other stories this is intended to work within the show's continuity sometime before mid-season two. Second of three chapters. To be concluded soon.
1. The Dark House

The weathered "CONDEMNED" sign rattled softly as Mabel pulled against the break in the rusted chain link fence, allowing Dipper to pass through. In the pitch-black of night they felt their way through an overgrown thicket, before emerging into an open, brick arcade. The arcade enclosed a modest courtyard that lay before a strange, shuttered house unlike anything Mabel or Dipper had seen before: narrow and tall with an asymmetrical tower and a decorative style somewhere between Second Empire and Northwest Coast Indigenous. Dipper looked nervously at Mabel, who wiggled her fingers and pursed her lips, miming a ghost's moan. He rolled his eyes and pulled a small crowbar from his backpack. While Mabel held a flashlight on the door Dipper methodically loosened the boards that had been nailed over it. With the last board gently leaned against the house Dipper reached for the knob and turned. It clunked dully and the door creaked open.

The house smelled like something between a used bookstore and an auto repair shop, a mix of yellowed pages and petroleum oils. The study they'd entered was packed with papers, boxes full of spare parts and above-all clocks, dozens of them. Dipper cleared a space on a stained worktable and took the Journal from his backpack. "Charles Jules Bontems," he said, flipping through the weathered pages. "1870-1935. At the turn of the century Monsieur Bontems was regarded as one of the most talented clockmakers in Paris and was a close personal associate Charles Richet, noted physiologist and parascientific researcher. Bontems believed that ectoplasm was a kind of disembodied vital force, which if harnessed could interact with the physical world through mechanical constructs. After a bitter dispute with his mentor Richet, Bontems immigrated to Gravity Falls where he built and repaired clocks to finance his research. I have found no indication that his research yielded any practical results, however, there were rumors that a great treasure was hidden somewhere in his house." Dipper stopped and turned to Mabel, who was nosily rummaging through a box. "Are you listening?" he asked, annoyed.

"Of course I am Dip. Girls are better at multitasking than boys. Check it out." she lifted her head to reveal a pair of earrings that hung well past her knees which she'd fashioned from watch parts and paperclips. "I call them 'Gearrings.'" she said, twirling a bit to show them off.

"Aren't those heavy?" asked Dipper, squinting at his sister's strained lobes. "And wouldn't they get caught on stuff?"

"Dipper," sighed Mabel, "I'm afraid my fashion sense is a little too sophisticated for you to understand." Dipper took one the earrings into his hand and looked at it thoughtfully, before nonchalantly and giving it a small tug.

"Toot."

"GAAA! Let it go!"

"Ok, now I can see the appeal." he laughed. Mabel scowled and took them off.

"Alright 'Mister Good Ideas' what's your plan for finding the treasure when no one else has?"

"Mabel, do you know how many _Sibling Brothers_ books I've read? There's always a secret switch or a candelabra-lever or some sort of false-book-safe-thing. Trust me, I'm an expert."

"Yeah, that's _totally_ not a rationalization for committing to a book series that has basically sold you the _same story_ two hundred times." Dipper handed Mabel a headlamp from his bag.

"Shows what _you_ know," he said defiantly. "It's more like _one_ _hundred and eighty nine."_ Dipper Zipped up his bag and dramatically adjusted his hat. "Ready?" he asked.

"Are you _serious?_ Give me a mustache and call my Schliemann, I was _born_ ready."

The twins made their way from one room to the next, the old floors groaning with each step. The rooms outside the study were largely empty, and it wasn't long before they came across the door for the tower. The four-story tower had been completely hollowed-out, save for the top floor, which was accessible only by a narrow ladder set into the wall. After a cautious and creaky ascent Dipper pushed open the trapdoor and the two crawled into the strange space.

Besides a small study niche beneath the only window the room was enveloped by a tall, elegant, circular bookshelf, packed not only with books but also a collection of sophisticated clockwork automata in various states of assembly. Examining the shelves, Mabel was instantly transfixed by one creation in particular. On the high shelf there was what appeared to be a young boy holding a quill seated at a desk with a pad of paper and a small inkwell.

"He's so…_tiny." _she said as she approached the shelf. Dipper pressed his foot tentatively against what felt like a rather weak floor.

"This looks really promising…" he said, turning his attention to the opposite bookshelf, unaware that his sister was already halfway up the other. "…but let's make sure we're _really_ careful."

Mabel reached the top shelf and examined the figure intensely. Arranged carefully next to the desk was a sealed bottle of ink and a brass key. Mabel uncorked the ink and poured out a small portion into the well. She felt for a hole in the figure's back, and with laser focus she gently inserted the key and turned four times.

The boy quietly whirred to life as hundreds of minute gears, rods and springs began their delicate interplay. The boy's eyes and head followed its hand as it dipped the quill into the well. It smoothly lifted the implement and turned back to the paper, where began to write in immaculate calligraphy.

"_Mon…Enfant…Mécanique…"_ Mabel mouthed, oblivious to the sagging shelf on which she stood. "_Zero…five…zero…seven…one…nine…three…three."_ The child ceased moving and Mabel carefully lifted the small sheet. Just then, Dipper completed his examination of the opposite bookshelf and turned to see his sister's precarious position.

"Mabel, what are you…_Mabel look out!"_ The shelf beneath her snapped and she plummeted like a stone.

"AHHH!" Mabel crashed through first one, and then another set of weakened boards, her hand barely managing to catch a wobbly crossbeam as she fell. Below her, books and broken wood clattered loudly over the tower's stone base.

"_Help!"_ she yelled, grasping for another handhold.

"Hold on!" said Dipper as he crawled over to the hole and extended his hand. Mabel reached up for him when her headlamp passed over something sliding towards her. In the space between the floor and the ceiling Mabel could see a rapidly descending wooden box with some sort of dial combination lock.

"_Dipper!"_ she said breathlessly. _"I found something!"_

"Forget it!" he pleaded. "Grab my hand before you _fall!" _

"Just another second…" she said. With her free hand Mabel caught the box just before it slipped through the broken ceiling. She tucked it under her arm, which she pressed against the edge of the hole to steady herself. She looked back up at Dipper.

"Mabel, you'll need both your…" before he could finish Mabel pushed off with the arm holding the box and slapped Dippers outstretched arm with her other hand. She gripped him desperately, the entirely of her weight pulling on his arm. _"URRR!"_ Dipper groaned, straining against the burden. With all his strength Dipper guided Mabel's arm to the edge of the floor, which she used to pull herself up. The two lay on the floor and panted next to one another before Dipper's profound anger caught up with him.

"_WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"_ he demanded, "That was an _incredibly_ irresponsible thing to do!"

"Incredibly irresponsible…" said Mabel as she held out the box. Shining brass letters that spelled out the word "TRÉSOR" had been inlaid into its polished surface. "…or just _incredible?"_

…


	2. Clockwork Ghosts

In the attic of the Shack Dipper and Mabel sat on the floor while Mabel fiddled with the box's rotating dials. She was carefully dialing in the numerals the boy automaton had written; convinced they had to be eight number code for the box. She clicked the last dial to three and moved her thumbs to the release buttons. She looked up at Dipper who gave her a skeptical shrug. She held her breath and pressed.

Nothing. She began pressing the buttons over and over with growing exasperation until she was pounding the box with her her fists.

_"I…feel…through...a…floor…for…these…numbers…you…stupid…box!" _Dipper put his hand on the box to stop Mabel from throwing it across the room.

"I told you those numbers didn't mean anything." said Dipper more than a little smugly. Dipper was aware how condescending he was being with Mabel, and he was kind of upset with himself for it, but he was still really angry at her for how irresponsibly she'd acted at the old house. Although, truth be told, and while he'd never admit it to himself, he was more jealous than anything. Even with all of his study and preparation _she'd_ been the one to find the treasure and not him. "Will you let me break it open already?" He picked up the small crowbar he'd used to break into the house and stuck it in the crack under the lid.

"I guess." said Mabel, a little dejected. She steadied the box so Dipper could have the necessary leverage. "Isn't it wrong to destroy an antique like this?"

"Probably." said Dipper dispassionately as pressed down on the crowbar. With a sharp snap the box popped open and the twins moved to peer inside.

The box was lined with stiff velvet that cushioned a small brass humanoid. An incredibly complex network of interconnected gears, levers and mechanisms radiated out from a hole in its chest, transitioning perfectly into delicate limbs and a large, oblong head, which looked like an old fashioned camera with a single inquisitive lens. Inside the lid of the box there was a worn black notebook secured to the lid by a pair of leather straps. Tentatively, Mabel undid the straps holding the notebook and began to flip through the pages. "What does it say?" asked Dipper.

"It doesn't really say anything, its just pictures and dates…Wait, here's something." On the last page there were two paragraphs, one in French and the other in English. Mabel began to read. "'Good Sir, I fear my time is short and thus I have passed my burden on to you. Within this box you will find the sum total of my life's work, a vessel for the unseen forces that surround us. I could not control it, yet I could not bring myself to destroy it, and so I have condemned my mechanical child to the purgatory you see before you. I pray you prove wiser and more decisive than I.'" Mabel and Dipper cast their eyes back to the hallow homunculus. "So wait…" began Mabel. "This thing uses that ectoplasm stuff you were talking about? The French guy was right?"

"I guess that's what he's saying, but I don't see anything super weird that looks like it uses ectoplasm."

"So what you're saying is…this is a ghost powered robot?" Dipper rolled the idea around in his head.

"I guess…yeah kinda. But it doesn't seem to have the ghost part…_Look!"_

From beneath the velvet the twins could see a faint glow. Mabel reached out and carefully lifted the stiff velvet lining. In the hidden compartment below there was a fragile, complex, transparent mechanism with some sort of dial configuration at the front and an intense, flickering blue light at its center. The light was incredibly bright, yet it cast no shadow and while it should have been unbearable, it didn't strain or blot Dipper or Mabel's eyes to look into it.

"Ghost Robot?" asked Mabel.

"Ghost Robot." said Dipper.

…

Dipper flipped through the notebook while he aggressively paced around the attic. "I don't get it." he said, "These pages are nothing but instructions for that glowy thing only a little bit different each time." He paused and chewed on the end of a ruined pen. "I guess they're failed attempts? Or maybe they're here to obscure the real combination?" Mabel gave a bored sigh as she put the finishing touches on her project. As usual Dipper had completely taken over the mystery without even thinking to ask her what she thought. She secured the small saddle she'd made to Waddles' back and gingerly lifted the automaton into place.

"Look Dipper." she said pointing to the slumped mechanical rider, "Once we figure out how to turn it on it'll have a way to get around."

"_Mabel!"_ yelled Dipper. Startled, Waddles took off across the room and bucked the automaton off its back. Dipper dove and caught it before it crashed into the ground. He looked up furiously at Mabel, "_Why would you do that?! _You've been acting completely irresponsibly ever since we went to the house!"

"Nothing would have happened if _you_ hadn't yelled!" Mabel caught Waddles and began stroking his head to calm him. "Besides, my 'irresponsibility' was a heck of a lot more useful than your 'investigative' skills." she said, making finger quotes. "Without me you never would have even found it. "

"I…I would have figured it out_ eventually_." he said defensively.

"_UHG!_" yelled Mabel, throwing up her hands, "Why can't you just admit that I was better at solving this mystery than you?"

"You think you're better at this than me?" said Dipper incredulously, "Prove it." he picked up the notebook and thrust it at her chest. "_You_ figure it out."

"I will! I'll figure it out so fast you'll need treatment for _whiplash_!"

"I won't hold my _breath_!" Dipper yelled over this shoulder as he stormed out of the attic.

"Go ahead! I hope you pass out and get carried away by _gnomes_!"

"You'd know all about that wouldn't you?" he yelled back from the bottom of the steps.

"URRRR!" yelled Mabel as she slammed the door. She plopped down on her bed and threw open the notebook. "I don't need him." Mabel's eyes began to blur as she stared at the diagrams. She looked up at Waddles and sniffed, "We've got this right?" Waddles grunted noncommittally. Mabel frowned and wiped her eye with her sweater. "Whatever. Who asked _you_?"

…

The following night Mabel lay awake in her bed. She rolled over and looked at Dipper, who was sound asleep, his shirt collar hanging from his mouth. She rolled back and stared angrily at the ceiling. She'd sat with the notebook all day and hadn't figured out anything. There were hundreds of combinations in the notebook and it would take forever to try them all, to say nothing of the possibility that the wrong combination might break the device permanently. It burned her up to think about how smug Dipper would be when she had to admit that she couldn't figure it out. _If I just had some sort of clue,_ she though,_ like that slip of paper with the combination to the box_…her thoughts trailed off as she closed her eyes, ..._only it wasn't a combination for the box_…

Mabel's eyes snapped open and she rolled out of bed. She stumbled over to the hamper where she pulled out the skirt she'd worn the day before and fished out the slip of paper from the pocket. Dipper groggily opened his eyes. "Mabel…what are you…?" he trailed off. Mabel was already at the desk where she flicked on the lamp and began flipping through the notebook. Dipper held up his hand against the light and walked over to her. "I know you're angry you couldn't figure it out but-"

"It's a date." she said, cutting him off. Mabel held out the notebook and the slip of paper. "Zero, five, zero, seven, one, nine, three, three." she said, holding up the slip. She pointed to the date of the entry she'd opened to. "Fifth of July nineteen thirty-three. These are the real instructions. He put the date of the correct page into the boy at the desk so he wouldn't have to write it down." She set down the notebook and lifted the glowing mechanism into the automaton's chest.

"Mabel, you're just guessing, those numbers could mean anything, or nothing." Mabel ignored Dipper and began adjusting the mechanism according to the page's instructions. After a few adjustments a portion of the mechanism snapped into place. They both gasped, and Mabel began making the next adjustment. "Ok," said Dipper, his voice growing a little nervous, "So you may be right, but we should really think about this." Mabel turned a dial and another portion snapped into place. "_Mabel!_" yelled Dipper, grabbing her arms "We don't know what this thing is. The Bontems guy said he couldn't control it."

"No!" yelled Mabel, shoving away his hands. "You're only saying that because I'm the one who figured it out! You'd have done it in a heartbeat if _you'd_ figured it out!" She pushed a component smoothly into place and placed her hand on the dial for the final step.

"_Mabel don't-"_ Mabel twisted the dial a few degrees and the device locked into place.

The twins stepped back as the automaton's chest glowed brighter and brighter. Gradually, the small brass marvel whirred to life, it's extremities unfurling and contracting in what looked like a diagnostic routine. After a through check of its component parts the automaton hoisted itself out of the box with smooth, mechanical movements and trained its single glass eye on Mabel.

"I guess I did it…" she said with a combination of awe and discomfort.

"I guess you did…" said Dipper, his voice trembling slightly. The metal homunculus focused it lens and tilted its head slightly as it continued to stare into Mabel's eyes. Mabel stood stock still with no idea what to do. "_Say something."_ Dipper whispered as he nudged Mabel's shoulder. The automaton leaned in and blinked its shutter. Mabel raised her hand and gave a small wave.

"Hi." she squeaked meekly.


End file.
